


if i don't live to see another day

by trixstar



Series: Ferdibert Week 2020 [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (just a miniscule mention dw), Angst, Character Study, Ferdibert Week 2020 (Fire Emblem), M/M, Past Child Abuse, Poison, Poisoning, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25824610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixstar/pseuds/trixstar
Summary: "How much time did you say he had again, professor?" Caspar asks, scowl set in place.Despite everything, Hubert wants to scoff. He's chided the man about paying close attention to important information.Manuela clears her throat, eying Hubert with a mix of what he's certain is grief and regret."Twenty-four hours, dear. Twenty-four hours before the poison kills him."Written for Ferdibert Week Day 2 Prompt: Poison
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & Hubert von Vestra, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra, Hubert von Vestra & Everyone
Series: Ferdibert Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870657
Comments: 22
Kudos: 190
Collections: Ferdibert Week 2020





	if i don't live to see another day

**Author's Note:**

> this was the first idea that came to me for ferdibert week so yes i love it although the way i planned the structure set me up for a very stressful and tedious time writing,, anyways hope y'all enjoy reading!

Hubert supposes this is fitting. In a wicked sort of way.

As a spymaster, he'd always been well-versed in the intricacies of poison. The different types, their specific effects, he was intimately familiar with the fast-acting ones that killed someone as soon they made contact with it, even more with the types that killed slowly, wrecking its victims from within bit by bit until their inevitable death. It's his job to know these things, to use this knowledge in service of the Empire.

So, to him, it truly is an ironic twist of fate that it's poison that's about to send him to an early grave.

It seems he is the only one who thinks so though because no one is laughing. Edelgard looks the most stressed he's ever seen her. Petra's eyes are wide in horror, hands clasped over her mouth. Caspar's jaw is dropped in disbelief and Dorothea doesn't seem to be able to look at Hubert at all. Linhardt looks significantly more pale than his usual countenance and Bernadetta, whose smile and brightness were more prominent these days, looked as if she'd reverted back into the hermit she was in the academy.

Ferdinand is not there with them and, strangely, the fact irks him more than the prospect of a imminent death.

(Maybe it's not so strange. He is about to die after all, he'd do well than to keep ignoring his feelings-)

"How much time did you say he had again, professor?" Caspar asks, scowl set in place.

Despite everything, Hubert wants to scoff. He's chided the man about paying close attention to important information.

Manuela clears her throat, eying Hubert with a mix of what he's certain is grief and regret.

"Twenty-four hours, dear. Twenty-four hours before the poison kills him."

**i.**

The first hour is the most hectic.

"Find the ones that did this. Search the square," Edelgard all but hisses, uncaring of who takes the order. She is too busy staring Hubert down, as if he were some puzzle that needed to be solved, as if she could solve it by simply staring. It is Caspar and Petra that spring into action, exchanging a look before nodding at Hubert and exiting the infirmary in a hurry, weapons drawn and determination eminent on their features.

Hubert watches them go before turning back to the emperor. "Lady Edelga-"

She looks away from him. "Linhardt, Dorothea, can I trust you to find some sort of magical alternative that can act as a cure?" 

Hubert resists the urge to scoff again. There is no cure. This is a poison even Hubert isn't familiar with in the slightest. Even with his experience, even if it flows through his blood. Finding antidotes to lethal poisons was hard enough, but to manufacture one with magic?

Hubert does not have high hopes.

But Dorothea nods regardless, even if he suspects that she already knows what he does. If she didn't, Linhardt would most certainly enlighten her. The look the man gives Hubert is one of intense fatigue.

"We'll work with the other mages. You can count on us, Edie, Hubie," she says, nodding at them. She comes closer to squeeze Hubert's hand and Hubert cannot help but squeeze back. Whether it's because of muscle memory or just the mood of it all doesn't matter. She grins at him before solemnity takes over once more then she and Linhardt are out the door.

Bernadetta stares at them quietly.

"Bernadet-"

"I-I'll send for the professor right away," she says meekly, as if reading Edelgard's mind. His liege nods, grateful. Bernadetta gives him a weak smile, trying to put on a brave front, he's sure, but she's shaking, shaking so badly and it's more than enough to give her away.

Manuela leaves with her, sensing the need for privacy.

When the door finally shuts, Edelgard lets out a shaky breath before finally meeting his eyes once more.

"Oh, _Hubert_."

If it weren't for the poison killing him, he's sure the crushing sadness he hears in those two words alone would have done the trick.

**ii.**

Edelgard stays by his side for the entirety of the second hour.

"Surely you have work to attend-"

"If you think for even a split second that I will just _leave_ you here while you are _dying_ , you are sorely mistaken, Hubert." Her gaze is hard and he feels her hand clench around his. Always so stern, his emperor.

Hubert is silent as a wry smile stretches across his face. He knows he wouldn't be able to kick her out of this room no matter what he said or did. 

She sighs, suddenly looking ten times older. "How did this even happen? You're usually so careful." 

Hubert looks down at his hands, still gloved despite everything. 

He _had_ been careful. He's always needed to be. After all, a single slip in his defenses could mean the fall of the entire empire. He has spies stationed in every nook and cranny of Enbarr and even more spread out across Fódlan. They are as capable as they are loyal. Hubert had made sure of that personally.

In addition to that and the fact that Hubert always made sure he had at least ten knives on his person whenever he ventured out of the palace, one would think he was sufficiently protected, would they not?

Except despite all these precautions, despite even the extreme wariness Hubert has learned to curate into his very being, _something_ goes wrong because suddenly Hubert had felt a searing pain in his side and, in no time at all, he'd been left writhing in a pain he's never felt before smack dab in the middle of Enbarr's busiest marketplace.

They don't catch the perpetrator. They had managed to seamlessly blend into the crowd after the job was done. The last thing Hubert remembers in the haze is his spies towering over him to collect him and the voices screaming in terror as pain surged through every inch of his body.

Then he had woken up here. About forty minutes into the first hour since he'd apparently lost consciousness at some point. Yes, it hadn't even been twenty-four hours, it had been _twenty-three_ and a few minutes. 

If the goddess ever did exist, it feels as though she's just spat on them. On Hubert specifically.

"...I don't know," he answers Edelgard honestly and with the response, his anger flickers back to life, hot and searing.

He is not supposed to _not_ know things. Hubert is supposed to be better than this. He is supposed to have the suspect in shackles right now. Supposed to be interrogating them in the dungeons, finding out who they worked for, extracting more information, making them _pay_ -

"Stop it." 

The haze in Hubert's eyes clears. Edelgard is squeezing his hand again, tight and reassuring.

"I can hear your self-loathing from here. It's alright, Hubert. There's nothing you could have done." She stares at their intertwined hands. "You're allowed to be vulnerable sometimes."

Hubert scoffs. "Not if it will cost me my life, Lady Edelgard. Case in point." He gestures at himself or, well, tries to, because just as he lifts an arm, it suddenly _burns_ (the workings of this poison baffles him) and then Edelgard is forcing it back down delicately, looking stricken. He must have made a face. The grief in hers makes him feel sick.

"You're going to survive this," she says quietly, reassuring him or herself, he isn't quite sure.

Hubert shakes his head gently. "El..." 

Edelgard's expression turns worse. Hubert had expected it to. Even in the moments they are alone, he very rarely let the endearment escape his lips. It is... sacred in a way only they are familiar with. Intimate, personal, so much so that Hubert only reserved it for the most extreme of situations.

This is one of them.

" _Don't_." Edelgard's eyes close. "You _will_ survive this. That's an order."

Hubert lets out a mirthless chuckle at the statement. "I suppose I have no choice but to obey then," he indulges her. He doesn't see the pros in arguing with her now when he is quite literally on his deathbed.

Edelgard rests her head on their joined hands. He knows she is well aware of what his words truly mean.

"If you die, we'll never forgive you," she tells him, voice only slightly muffled by Hubert's bed sheets.

He lets out another chuckle. Because really, this is all just so ironic, isn't it?

"You say that as if I have a choice in the matter and who is this ' _we_ ' you speak of?" It's a question he's certain he already knows the answer to.

Edelgard doesn't miss a beat. "Dorothea, Caspar, Linhardt, Bernadetta, Petra," she meets his eyes, "Ferdinand."

Hubert looks away. Of course she'd bring this up. "Do you really wish for us to talk about this now?"

"I don't see why not." Edelgard's gaze is defiant. "Since you're so sure that you're going to die in a matter of hours, now would be the right time, wouldn't it?"

A part of him interprets this as her accepting the very real and very likely possibility that he is going to die. He supposes this is the best he could ask for.

Yet he still refuses to talk about it.

"Lady Edelgard," he hopes the fatigue comes across in his voice. Besides pain, it is all he feels right now.

For all the fire that had raged in her eyes, she concedes very easily when she sees the look on his face. "...Fine, if that's what you truly want."

"Thank you, your majesty."

Edelgard doesn't respond, simply choosing to clench his hands tighter. This will be the last time Hubert will be able to feel her hand in his. He will savor it as much as he can in this companionable silence. 

**iii.**

Edelgard falls asleep. Hubert lets her be. He is the most familiar with her schedule. He knows that this has been a busy enough day even without his... predicament. He expects that she'll be angry with him when she wakes, but he cannot quite bring himself to care. This is alright with him. Bathing in the silence as they held each other's hands.

If this was going to be his last meaningful memory with her, Hubert had no qualms.

He leans back into the bed, careful not to disturb her. He feels a twinge of pain as he settles into the pillows. _Flames_ , if he'd only had more time. He'd do anything to get his hands on a vial of the poison coursing through his body to examine it himself. Its effects were most puzzling and, when he eventually succumbs to it, he supposes he will be glad that his body could be used for research into the matter.

Hubert chuckles to himself bitterly. Were Edelgard aware of his thoughts, she'd surely scold him for holding himself in such little regard. She always did whenever he'd even so much as imply it.

The memories that suddenly play through his mind irk him as much as they fill him with a considerable amount of sadness.

Hubert has never been a fan of nostalgia. It served as a hindrance most of the time. Sentimentality and the like blinded you in a battlefield, made your heart weak and Hubert's job required him to be anything but.

To wear one's heart on their sleeve as they marched to war... now that he thinks about it, perhaps he does know someone who excels in that regard.

He hadn't wanted to talk about it with Edelgard for good reason. Ferdinand von Aegir was capable of invoking an onslaught of emotions within Hubert at even the mere mention of his name. Combine that with his not exactly optimal condition and Hubert would wager having the conversation would only serve to kill him faster.

He supposes he should be glad Ferdinand is not here to see him like this now, weakened and hurting. He is off wearing his heart on his sleeve on a battlefield along Fódlan's borders with Byleth and several troops. Always so active, the Prime Minister is. He's always been a subject of admiration amongst Adrestian citizens.

Ferdinand would berate him if he were here. Tell Hubert he should've been more careful. Get frantic in a way only he ever could by teetering between calmly preparing Hubert coffee and showering him with flowery words about how he wouldn't rest until whoever had done this to him be captured. The man's flair for the dramatic is something Hubert's learned to grow increasingly fond of, odd as it may be.

Ferdinand always did do things in extremes, as evidenced by his old habit of announcing himself loudly and proudly upon entering a battlefield. Upon dealing with an injured comrade, Hubert has found that this tendency did not change. The reason he's so familiar with Ferdinand's probable actions is because this isn't the first time it's happened.

Hubert has danced with death before. Far too many times. As Edelgard's right hand, it was required of him and, believe it or not, Hubert has never had a problem with it. He'd always been born to serve her. For a long time now, he's been prepared to die for her as well. Especially now that the empire- no, now that _Fódlan_ was under much better management with his emperor at the helm. It had taken years, but it had finally gotten to the point where their current system of management could stand strong on its own two feet, not needing Edelgard or Hubert's constant nurturing.

In short, now would be an ideal time for Hubert to die.

...And yet.

For as many times Hubert has nearly gotten himself killed, Ferdinand has largely aided in his recovery just as frequently. A constant presence by his bedside, always bearing gifts or good conversation to fill the void that healing from his wounds inflicted on his Hubert's daily life. So many times has Hubert fallen and so many times has Ferdinand come to pick him back up.

If there is one thing that sticks to Hubert the most during these instances is that Ferdinand will always look so _pained_. Eyes filled with grief anytime Hubert winced. Mouth wide in horror anytime Hubert groaned in agony. Pain for whenever Hubert was pained himself. Only disappearing when he is finally fully healed.

...He hopes Ferdinand will forgive him for not recovering this once.

**iv.**

Edelgard has no time to be furious with him when she wakes up to the door slamming open. Caspar actually looks terrified when he meets her sleepy eyes and Petra lets out a yelp herself when they see the scathing look Edelgard directs at Hubert next.

"What is it?" Hubert asks the pair before she can berate him further.

Caspar straightens. "We found the guy," he answers, fists clenched. "He had a couple of accomplices, but they got away in the scuffle. We sent some guards after them though. We're sorry, Edelgard."

Edelgard raises a hand, shaking her head. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault. We'll deal with them when the time comes. Right now, I'm just pleased we have the suspect apprehended." Her voice has an edge as she speaks the last few words. "I assume interrogations have begun?" 

Hubert sees her eyes widen and narrow significantly when Petra shakes her head. "He is insisting that he will not be speaking to anyone other than you, Edelgard," she informs them gravely. "He is threatening to destroy the cure if we don't bring you to him."

Hubert is only mildly surprised by the revelation. He'd already deduced that he'd been used as a mere pawn in whatever game this man and whoever he worked for thought they were playing with the emperor. If the goal was to secure Edelgard's attention, what better way to do it than to target her shadow?

Edelgard sighs heavily. He knows she's figured out as much as he has. _Guilt_ has never been an emotion her majesty was fond of, yet it manages to sink its claws into her every so often.

"Go," he tells her before she can ask. Because of course she'd still ask.

For a beat, Edelgard simply stares at him, a flurry of emotions flickering in her eyes. Hubert recognizes them all. She finally nods, solemn. 

"I won't be long."

"I doubt the suspect will crack easily," he tells her factually.

Edelgard seems to take this as a challenge because her next words are "We'll see about that."

She nods at Hubert one last time before striding forward, Caspar and Petra instantly parting to make way for her to exit. The two give Hubert meaningful looks as well before following after emperor, steps filled with purpose.

The door does not click shut the way Hubert expects it to, however. Manuela catches it before entering the room herself.

"How are you feeling, Hubert?"

Hubert shrugs. "I've felt better," he tells her plainly. "Has there been any progress with the sample?"

They'd extracted blood from him earlier of course, some time during the first hour, when the pain was too intense for Hubert to feel the pinprick of a needle enter his skin. It's how he'd learned of how he didn't actually _know_ what the poison was, his blood reacting in the most bizarre way. It had _changed color_. Hubert had never seen anything like it before. Yet it did not stop Edelgard from sending it to the royal medics. Last Hubert had heard, they'd barely made any leeway discovering what it was even composed of.

Manuela shakes her head sadly. "Unfortunately not very much. They're suspecting it's been hexed somehow, the poison. But, other than that, no leads." She's looking very regretful, as if it were her fault Hubert lay here in the first place. 

He shifts on his bed. _Magic_. That explained a lot. Only magic could be so unorthodox.

Taking his silence as a response, Manuela walks over to drop a saucer of painkillers by his bedside table and steps away, eyeing him critically.

"You should rest. There's no kinder way to say this Hubert, but you look horrible."

 _Hah_. He could imagine.

He is struck then by a memory.

_Ferdinand sits across him, gripping his teacup tighter than necessary._

_"You really do need to care about your appearance more, Hubert! The Minister of Imperial Affairs cannot always go prancing around with his hair so unkempt. I have heard whispers you know-"_

_Hubert snorts. In a dignified manner of course._

_"Let them talk. And I find it ironic to be hearing this from the fool that enters war zones with his hair flowing carelessly into the wind. Surely my hairstyle isn't as hazardous as yours."_

_A face of indignance. "I tie it-"_

_A chuckle. "Yet it always comes undone."_

_A pout that does horrible things to his heart. "...I hate how you have made this about me."_

_Silence. Because Hubert is too much of a coward to admit that these days he cannot help but make things all about Ferdinand-_

"Hubert?" 

Manuela's voice snaps him out of it reminiscing. She is looking significantly more concerned now, brows furrowed and mouth set in a thin line.

"...I'll rest," he concedes, if only to get more time alone. 

Manuela nods and, in a matter of a few seconds, Hubert is finally left alone.

He doesn't nap. Simply sits there and lets his memories wash over him like a wave. Meeting Edelgard. Choir practice with Dorothea. Research with Linhardt. Berating Caspar. Sparring with Petra. Reading with Bernadetta. Tea times with Ferdinand. Morning rides with Ferdinand. 

Hubert spends the good part of the hour revelling in something he's always abhorred: nostalgia.

**v.**

Bernadetta shuffles in just as the fifth hours begins, holding a tray of food and a book.

At the sight of her, Hubert realizes just how late it actually is, turning to look out the infirmary window for confirmation. The moon shines bright over the horizon, so discreet that he'd barely even noticed it. It probably wasn't good for Hubert to be so uncaring of the time.

"It's about three or four hours after sundown," Bernadetta supplies helpfully as she takes the seat Edelgard had previously occupied. She clears away the saucer Manuela had placed beside him earlier to make room for the tray. Sautéed Jerky. One of his few favorites.

"I don't recall this being on the menu tonight," he says as he gestures at the food.

Bernadetta gets a downcast look in her eyes and Hubert sees her grip on the book in her lap tighten before banishing it in the next instant. It doesn't matter, Hubert's seen it already.

"Edelgard put in a special request for the chefs," she squeaks out sliding the tray onto his lap after he's finally set himself up in the right position.

He chuckles darkly. "And of course they couldn't say no to a dying man's last meal request."

" _Hubert_!" She looks pained.

"Tell me that isn't what happened."

Bernadetta's bottom lip trembles and Hubert decides not to comment on the topic any further.

"Thank you," he says instead, "for taking the time to bring me this." Hubert hopes she hears the sincerity in his tone.

"It's no problem."

"Do you have any updates regarding my... affliction?" He's certain there is no better word for it.

Bernadetta nods jerkily. "T-The medics have confirmed magic was somehow utilized in the poison. As soon as they discovered it, they brought in Dorothea, Linhardt, and the rest of the mages to work with."

"I see. The suspect?"

Bernadetta's face settles into a scowl. An uncommon look for someone known to be so timid. "He still hasn't budged. Edelgard and the others haven't given up though."

Hubert nods. He'd expected as much. Not because he didn't have faith in Edelgard, no ( _never_ ), mostly because he'd deduced that anyone with the gall to come after him and the intelligence to manufacture such a unique type of poison would be formidable.

"She's always been stubborn," is the response he settles on. It wasn't a lie.

Bernadetta laughs quietly. "Yeah... always..."

There is silence then. Companionable just like it always was with Bernadetta. It's something he's grown to appreciate over the years. Having company that did not require him to speak or listen. Just... exist. Small blessings.

Uncharacteristically, it is Hubert that breaks the silence as he looks at the book in her hands. "Now what is it that you have there?"

Bernadetta startles before holding the thing up. Upon further inspection, Hubert now sees that it is a binder, not a book. A thick wad of paper held together by tape. It looked as if-

"Is that your latest manuscript?"

The girl nods, a shaky smile forming on her lips. "Y-Yeah. I just finished it last night. I..." she looks down, smile minimizing, "I thought you might want to read it. Since you liked the last installment so much."

Hubert lets a small smile settle on his own face. "I would like that."

Bernadetta's grin is back at full force and she is fine opening the book and beginning to read to him aloud. They don't address the bigger reason she is here. 

She is reading him her unedited manuscript because he will be dead in a manner of hours. She has brought him his favorite food because he will be dead in a manner of hours. She is by his bedside now because he will be dead in a manner of hours-

Hubert starts eating. That combined with Bernadetta's soft voice reading him a riveting tale provided good distraction for what was to come.

(He does not comment when her voice trembles at some parts. Does not address the tears that roll down her cheeks as the story drags on. He thinks it's for the best. For _both_ their sakes.)

**vi.**

Bernadetta falls asleep near the ending. Hubert had seen it coming, the hour was late after all. He had been fine finishing the manuscript on his own. A masterpiece as usual, once again he'd found himself questioning why she'd initially been so hesitant with sharing her work in the first place.

He cleans up as best as he can, but the fact that the pain has only gotten worse and his legs are now pinned down by Bernadetta's weight means it doesn't do much. He'd placed the tray and the manuscript back on the bedside table and shifted into a more comfortable position. Dusted off any crumbs that might've fallen onto his sheets.

The moon is higher up in the sky now, shining brightly in the ocean of darkness. No stars, Hubert notes duly as he continues staring out the window. It's all he can do really.

Perhaps it is the boredom that causes his eyes to feel heavy. Or the peaceful quiet in the room and the surrounding halls. (He's sure someone had a hand in that.) Either way, Hubert feels sleep sink its claws into him and, with nothing better to do, he finally lets it overtake him.

**vii.**

Hubert does not dream. He recalls.

_"Get up," his father's voice booms across the room, "I said get up, boy!"_

_Hubert does or, well tries to. He only manages to kneel before his father sends another gust of wind his way and Hubert is thrown back into the wall. Again. The sound the impact makes is not pleasant._

_His mother is silent as always, content in simply watching._

_When the next gust comes, Hubert does not get back up._

**viii.**

_"My name is Edelgard." The brunette tells him in a manner that is both cheery and formal. Her eyes shine against the sunlight filtering into the room._

_Hubert bows, unfazed. "I am Hubert-"_

_"von Vestra, right?" Edelgard cuts him off as she takes in the sight of him. "You're going to be my vassal, correct?"_

_"As per tradition, yes," he confirms, staring up at her, the person he's now committed to serving for the rest of his life._

_Edelgard hums thoughtfully before grinning at him, wide and bright._

_"I hope we can get along, Hubert."_

_He allows himself to smile back, just a little bit._

_"I as well."_

**ix.**

_"Are you ready for this, Hubert?" Edelgard asks him quietly. Garreg Mach Monastery's exterior casts a gigantic shadow on their carriage._

_He does not hesitate with his answer. "Of course, Lady Edelgard."_

_When Rhea greets them after they disembark, it takes a lot in Hubert to keep his animosity in check. One glance at his lady's white hair in such close proximity to the archbishop invokes so much anger within him._

_They are going to take everything from her._

**x.**

_"My name is Ferdinand von Aegir!"_

_Edelgard flinches at the voice. Hubert meanwhile lets out a long-suffering sigh._

_The von Aegir boy is obnoxiously loud. Obnoxious in general, if Hubert is being completely honest._

_"Keep an eye on him," Edelgard tells him later and he will nod even if the thought of prolonged exposure to their classmate fills him with revulsion._

_He keeps tabs on everyone else too. For safety's sake. The songstress. The hermit. The foreigner. The good-for-nothing. The idiot._

_All stepping stones for what is to come._

**xi.**

_There is a new professor and Hubert takes care to keep an eye on her as well._

_She is, quite frankly, a brick wall. Frustratingly hard to read and eyes always searching for something. Hubert yearns to know what that something is._

_She is young, but something tells him that she has seen more than she lets on. There is a certain type of fatigue in her eyes that he only manages to recognize because of how he's seen it in his own lady's eyes. The tiredness of knowing something you shouldn't, the weight of having to go through something you shouldn't have._

_For that reason, Hubert decides she must die as well._

_It will have been more for mercy in her case._

**xii.**

_Hubert tolerates his class more now, to the point where he nearly considers them as friends before he catches himself. He cannot entertain such thoughts. Edelgard could make friends with them, sure, but it is Hubert's job to remain unbiased should the need for extermination arise._

_He will do what she cannot._

_The fact that he enjoys instilling fear into Bernadetta or exchanging sarcasm with Dorothea and Linhardt is irrelevant. So is the fact that he smirks when he hears Caspar's war cries or takes the time to comfort Petra during bouts of homesickness._

_What is most irrelevant is how he takes pleasure in provoking Ferdinand von Aegir. Or discussing politics and tea (of all things) with him in the form of vicious verbal battles. Or how he actually finds the fop pleasant when he's not being a noble brat._

_These are all irrelevant._

**xiii**.

_The Flame Emperor's mask falls._

**xiv**.

_Byleth may fall into a ravine, but life moves forward._

_They fight, they build, they survive. They create the country Edelgard had only envisioned a mere few years ago and they defend it everyday. It is difficult at first, but it's only natural for it to be so. As time goes by, things get easier, things get better._

_Hubert calls them friends now, capable allies he trusted with his life. He spends time with them outside the war room and the battlefield. He actually enjoys their company now._

_And it is no secret that in an ironic twist of fate, Hubert enjoys Ferdinand's company the most._

_Yes, the man he'd absolutely loathed occupies most, if not all, his free time in the years it takes to reconstruct. By now, Hubert has memorized the contours of his face, the melodious sound of his laugh, the difference in the man's plastic smile and the one that is genuine. Hubert... Hubert falls-_

_He's almost thankful for Dimitri's resurfacing._

**xv.**

Hubert wakes up with someone's hand in his.

This doesn't feel like Bernadetta is his first thought, but the weight is warm and familiar. So much so that Hubert can't bring himself to pull away.

It is only after he rubs his eyes with his free hand and checks the time using the clock on the wall ( _eight_ hours, he'd been asleep eight hours, under normal circumstances, he'd be praised for finally being able to manage the feat) that Hubert finally turns to his mystery visitor.

He feels his heart jump in his throat.

 _Ferdinand_ is clutching his hand tightly, orange curls spilling across Hubert's blanket. The face he wears is not one of his usual peaceful slumber (a sight Hubert's only been privy to because of the amount of times he'd walked in on the man passed out on his desk,) but one of someone who looked like sleeping actually _pained_ them rather than replenish their health.

Ah, yes, pain.

He wonders if Ferdinand has been updated with his condition. Ridiculous of him to think so when Hubert himself is no longer up-to-date after eight hours. A naive part of him hopes there's been progress with a cure or the suspect, but Hubert knows better than to be optimistic.

Ferdinand stirs and Hubert quickly stills. When the man's breathing returns to normal, he lets out a sigh of relief, muscles losing their rigidness. The Prime Minister didn't look like he was going to wake up anytime soon, but Hubert is fine with that. He is a sight to behold whether he is awake or dead asleep.

Hubert settles back onto his bed and decides another hour of sleep couldn't hurt.

(He's dying either way.)

**xvi.**

The next time Hubert is awoken is because of the door slamming open.

He flinches awake and the question of whether Ferdinand heard it too is answered by how Hubert suddenly meets his wide, frantic eyes.

"Oops," Caspar says sheepishly at the sight. Petra and Dorothea's heads pop up behind him. "Did we wake you guys?"

"Unpleasantly, yes," Hubert grits out as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Good morning," he tells Ferdinand next and hopes it doesn't come out lamely.

The man blinks. "Good... Good morning, Hubert," Ferdinand responds, throat sounding dry and tone dazed.

Seeing him awake has finally made Hubert notice something odd. That being Ferdinand looks terribly _haggard_.

His hair is sticking up in the most random places and there are dark bags under his eyes. The look in his eyes itself is significantly less brighter than usual and his clothes are bloodied and splattered with dirt.

This is the worse Hubert has ever seen him.

Dorothea clears her throat, effectively commanding his and Ferdinand's attention.

"Sorry for the rude awakening, Hubie, Ferdie. I _did_ tell him to knock," she gestures at Caspar, but it does not distract Hubert from her appearance. Dark bags, messy hair, she'd been up all night too. Because of him, he assumes.

"Edelgard said to wake him up no matter what this time!" Caspar protests as the three slip into the room. Upon closer inspection, Hubert notices that they _all_ look worse for wear. He'd be touched if it weren't for the fact that his focus has been redirected at the mention of Edelgard.

"What is it?" Hubert asks.

"We've made progress, Hubert!" Petra informs him cheerily.

Beside him, Ferdinand perks up. "What's happened?" He pipes up before Hubert can.

Caspar grins. "Dorothea, Lin, and the rest of the mages and medics have come up with a cure!"

"A very rough one," Dorothea interjects, "a prototype, if you will. We have no guarantee it will work, but... but we tried our best, Hubie," she tells him sincerely. 

Hubert nods. "Thank you, Dorothea, truly. Whether it is effective or not, I am indebted to you all."

Something in her gaze softens and when she walks over to clutch Hubert's other hand, he lets it happen. " _Anything_ for a friend."

Hubert allows himself a smile.

It's not until Caspar and Petra bring him a wheelchair that he notices how he had not once let go of Ferdinand's hand.

(He remains oblivious to the look Dorothea and Ferdinand share. The conversation that happens between them that leaves Ferdinand crying and Dorothea hugging him tight and comfortingly.)

**xvii**.

They poke and prod at him. The pain of the poison numbs any he may feel because of the needles. He lets himself be hexed, experimented on in case the prototype cure doesn't work and they need to manufacture a second one quickly. They don't give him the prototype until the tests are over.

He's never felt this weak before. He'd been on the brink of death a hundred times, but Hubert has never felt so powerless in his life. So annoyingly helpless as the world burned around him.

The annoying part is that Hubert cannot tell if it worked. Any effects of the cure could only make themselves apparent in about four hours, he's been informed. If they were going to administer him with a second cure, they'd be cutting it close. Too close for Hubert's comfort, but, hey, beggars couldn't be choosers.

He can barely make out his surrounding as they wheel him back to the infirmary, head seemingly filled with static and body inexplicably numb. He thinks he can hear his friends' concerned whispers around him, but Hubert cannot for the life of him decipher what they are saying. This only adds to his frustration.

He's only able to regain a semblance of consciousness when he's finally carried back to his bed, making out Caspar's and Ferdinand's faces above him as they settle him down gently.

It had escaped Hubert's attention that all the Eagles are now present in the room, Byleth included. She exchanges quiet words with a clearly fatigued Linhardt in the corner.

"Suspect..." Hubert manages to get the words out, mind still swimming, "the suspect-"

"Hush, Hubert." Edelgard is the one that rushes to him first, taking his hand and proceeding to draw soothing circles along his arms just like they were kids."Quiet for now, you're in a lot of pain."

He'd scoff if he could. She certainly didn't need to tell _him_ that. 

Edelgard must see the look in his eyes because she laughs bitterly after that. "Yes, I suppose I didn't need to remind you of that."

"Sus-"

Another person takes his hand. 

Hubert lolls his head to the side.

Ferdinand, of course, looking pained like he always did when Hubert was busy decaying in an infirmary bed. "Do not push yourself, Hubert. _Please,_ " he begs, voice oozing with emotion. Just the look on his face is enough for the rest of the words to die in Hubert's throat.

Now, how could he go against _that_?

He shuts his mouth reluctantly and misses the grateful look Edelgard sends Ferdinand's way. The emperor turns back to address him.

"The suspect hasn't budged unfortunately. He's surprisingly very resilient. I _will_ get answers from him though. I swear it."

Hubert nods rigidly. There's so much more he wants to ask. Have you discovered who they work for? Are they actually carrying a cure? What do you think are their motiv-

Ferdinand's grip tightens and Hubert looks up to meet his disapproving gaze.

" _Stop_. Edelgard will handle it," he tells Hubert authoritatively, eyes narrowed. In that moment, he feels like a child being scolded by their parent.

He stops.

"So," Caspar begins tensely after a beat of silence, "what do we do now?"

Edelgard eyes the meat of Hubert's shoulder, where they injected the prototype into him just minutes ago.

"Now, we wait."

**xviii.**

Edelgard is gone again. Back to grilling the man who'd done this to him. Dorothea and Linhardt leave too, assistance needed to create the back-up cure. Bernadetta recruits Caspar and Petra to aid her in further research in the royal library. They're all valid excuses. Directly affecting Hubert's life, in fact.

Yet he still can't help but feel like they'd all left him and Ferdinand alone on purpose.

He's still holding Hubert's hand, tighter now in an attempt to make up for Edelgard's absence, Hubert assumes. If he were braver, he'd tell Ferdinand his presence alone was more than enough.

"How are you feeling now?" Ferdinand asks him softly.

Hubert doesn't hesitate with his answer. "Like garbage. You?" He drawls. He's glad his voice is back.

Ferdinand laughs, but his grin doesn't reach his eyes. "I have had better days too."

"How was the border?" Hubert asks conversationally.

Ferdinand makes an ugly face. Hubert finds it endearing anyway. "Bloody," he answers wistfully, "there were a lot more rebels than we thought."

"Did you attempt to negotiate?"

"You know I always do," Ferdinand replies before sighing, "they would not have it. We... We had no choice."

"These things happen." Despite being the one on his deathbed, Hubert cannot fight the urge to comfort Ferdinand, to want to hold him and make him feel like everything was alright. "You did all you could."

"I know. I... I just don't think I'll ever get used to it is all. I felt very pensive after the bloodshed."

Hubert smiles wryly. "Was that before or after you and the professor received Bernadetta's letter?"

Hubert had only meant to joke, but the suddenly _destroyed_ look that spreads across Ferdinand's face knocks the wind right out of him.

"Before," Ferdinand answers a beat later, voice shaky. "After? I got on the nearest horse and began riding back here. The professor was less than pleased about having to chase after me, but," he looks at Hubert meaningfully, "it is not everday you receive a letter telling you a dear friend is going to die in less than a day."

Hubert ignores the twist in his gut at the word "friend," surely just the poison acting up. "That explains your state then," is all he manages to say.

Ferdinand snorts softly. "I am glad you noticed."

"Of course."

There is silence then. Charged and filling Hubert with unease. He chances a glance at the clock. Roughly six hours left.

If he were ever going to say anything, now would be the time.

"Fe-"

"Do not die."

Hubert's words die in his throat.

Ferdinand's voice is thick with emotion, tears gathered in the corners of his eyes looking ready to spill. His bottom lip is trembling and all of that combined with the bags, unkempt hair, and dirtied clothes?

The sight breaks Hubert's heart.

" _Please_ do not die, Hubert. I... I cannot- I do not know what I would do if I lost you. Who will I have tea with if you died? Who will I ride with in the morning, huh?"

Ferdinand is glaring now amidst the tears, yet Hubert still cannot find it in him to respond.

"Who will advise Edelgard with me? Who will tell me I am being ridiculous for wanting to throw another ball? Who is going to make me laugh during the council meetings?" Ferdinand's voice cracks," Who is going to walk me to my room after I have overworked myself? _Hell_ , who am I going to drag out of your office at the crack of dawn to get some sleep? Who will I make coffee for? Hubert, who am I going to lov-"

Hubert hugs him. Even if every inch of his body howls in agony at the sudden motion. It's _too much_ , Hubert cannot just sit there and do _nothing_. He couldn't. 

Ferdinand clutches him back tightly and, slowly, Hubert feels his shirt wet with his tears, quiet sniffles and hiccups being the only sound that echoes in the room.

" _Please_."

"...I will try."

It's an empty promise, but a promise all the same.

(He loathes it. The fact that the last thing Hubert will ever do to Ferdinand is _lie_ to him.)

**xix.**

Lunch is mostly a silent affair. Bernadetta, Caspar, and Petra had walked in with heaps of food and hopeful smiles that fall off immediately at the sight of Ferdinand sniffling into Hubert's neck.

They are polite enough not to comment. Simply sitting down around the room after Ferdinand gathers himself enough to invite them to stay. His smile is heartbreakingly beautiful, even if it's fake.

Cabbage and Herring Stew. Another one of Hubert's favorites. Caspar tells him happily about how he'd helped whip it up in the kitchens just for him. Hubert is about to thank him by taking his first sip, but his hand suddenly _burns_ and the next thing he knows, he's screaming in agony and Petra and Ferdinand are screaming for Manuela and everything is hazy and it _hurts_. It _hurts_. Everything _hurts_ -

Hubert blacks out.

**xx.**

The prototype cure hadn't worked. Hubert's earlier fit of pain was more than enough proof of that.

Dorothea and Linhardt had come running along with Manuela and they had paled at the sight of him writhing, tears in his eyes, and voice scratchy from yelling. Edelgard hadn't come and Hubert's actually thankful for that.

Bernadetta had actually broken down in tears. Petra rushing in to comfort her, but looking close to tears as well. Caspar had been the meekest Hubert's ever seen him.

And _Ferdinand_. He doesn't even want to get started on how Ferdinand had looked.

Hubert is in and out for the better part of the hour. Pain both causing him to lose consciousness and force him awake. It's sick, it's cruel, and it _hurts_. He can't even talk anymore, opening his mouth last time had incited _another_ fit of suffering.

He cannot do anything but watch as chaos descended. Linhardt and Dorothea taking more samples before rushing back to the rest of the mages. Petra holding Caspar back as he threatened to go to the dungeons himself and beat the cure out of the man who'd done this to Hubert. Bernadetta silently sobbing next to him.

Through it all, Ferdinand holds his hand and he supposes this is the best he can ask for.

**xxi.**

Hubert no longer has the will to keep his eyes open. If he's being completely honest, he's surprised it hadn't happened sooner. 

Everything is a blur now, time, vision. The last thing he remembers seeing properly is Edelgard entering the room, eyes wide in horror before she turned hazy once more.

...This is probably a sign that he should close his eyes now, isn't it? It wouldn't hurt, would it? To give into the pain like this? He still had a few hours left, he thinks. And pain has proven to be a good alarm clock. 

So despite all the yelling around him... Hubert thinks he'll nap for a while. Just for a while.

(If he's going to die now then it will be on his terms.)

**xxii.**

Hubert does not recall. He dreams.

_Strangely enough, they are at the monastery, back in the Black Eagles classroom to be exact._

_Hubert looks around the room to see the familiar faces of his friends staring back at him, happy, carefree. They appear as they are, no longer teens but young adults who've had to suffer through war and chaos._

_Yet they look genuinely happy._

_Hubert wonders if the same can be said for him._

_They're suddenly seated at a table now, tea and cookies scattered upon it. Hubert is pleased to note he has coffee in his hands instead._

_It feels him with warmth seeing everyone so... so unburdened. Edelgard is laughing at something Dorothea's said. Linhardt and Petra having a colorful discussion about cultural differences. Caspar bugging Bernadetta to let him see her manuscript._

_Ferdinand is beside him and he looks radiant._

_"Are you happy, Hubert?" The man asks before taking a sip of tea._

_Hubert notices now that they're hands are intertwined tightly and if he hadn't been happy before then he most certainly was now._

_He finally gets the words out._

_"I love you, Ferdinand."_

_And all is well._

**xxiii.**

("Ferdinand, what are you doing?!" Edelgard all but yells at him as he pulls away from Hubert.

He stalks away, doesn't turn around, simply choosing to stride forward and grabbing his lance from where he'd haphazardly thrown it when he'd first arrived. No one moves to stop him. 

They'd all heard Hubert.

"Something he would have done," is all he says through gritted teeth before breaking into a run towards the dungeons.

He pushes past the guards.

_In a dry, scratchy voice, Hubert had said he loved him._

He yells back at the prisoners that yell at him.

_Hubert had said he loved him._

He pulls the door to the perpetrat- to the _monster's_ interrogation cell wide open.

_Hubert had said he loved him._

The last thing the monster sees is the swing of Ferdinand's lance. Ferdinand frisks him quickly before finding a bottle of clear liquid and running like hell.)

**xxiv.**

Something warm slides down Hubert's throat.

**xxv.**

Hubert opens his eyes.

Beside him, Edelgard lets out a watery gasp. Bernadetta chokes back a sob. Petra and Dorothea are suddenly hugging as they let tears roll down their faces. Linhardt lets out a heavy sigh of relief before having the air squeezed out of him by the death grip that is Caspar's relieved hug.

"How-"

Ferdinand hugs him, tight and anchoring.

"I love you too, you bastard."

And, for the time being, all is well.

**Author's Note:**

> my god that was a ride im so glad to be done with it <3 i cant believe i crammed that in a day lmao anyways hope y'all enjoyed! kudos and comments appreciated hehe
> 
> [my twitter!](https://twitter.com/trixstarsss)


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